


Start of something good

by Elisexyz



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emma is Neal's knight in shining armour, F/M, First (official) meeting, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 21:29:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16542608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: “Hi, I’m Neal, I live next door,” he begins, with a friendly, if a bit awkward, grin. “I know we have never talked, but I happen to have a bit of a, uh,problemwith spiders, and there’s this huge— I don’t know, it’s like a giant tarantula, I swear, it’s in my apartment and I have a job interview tomorrow so I do need the sleep, and you look scary enough not to be afraid of spiders, so— can you kill it for me?”





	Start of something good

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by [this prompt on Tumblr](http://heytheredeann.tumblr.com/post/179834524044/i-know-weve-never-talked-before-but-there-is-a). I saw it and my brain was like: _Swanfire. Do it. Do it now._ And here we are.

It’s been a _long_ day, on top of a _very_ long week.

Emma drops her gun and badge on the table, trying to decide if, considering that she has been _tackled_ to the ground an hour ago and everything fucking _hurts_ , she’d be better off taking a bath immediately and worrying about eating later or if she should cook something before she passes out, considering that she barely grabbed lunch and she didn’t eat anything else for the rest of the day.

She has kicked off her shoes and decided that maybe she could prepare the bath and put a sandwich in her stomach while the water runs, when the doorbell rings. Because she _never_ has any visitors but of course _now_ — Well, at least she’s still presentable. If you don’t count that a close-up of her face could be used to define sleep deprivation on a dictionary.

When she opens the door, trying not to look like she’s considering murder, she comes face to face with the guy that recently moved to the only other apartment on the last floor: she hasn’t seen much of him, because she works crazy hours, so the only thing she knows is that his doorbell says _N. Cassidy_ , that sometimes he takes the trash out at five in the morning, and that he’s always wearing hoodies. Or, at least, every time she has seen him. Tonight included.

“Uh, yes?” she frowns, because if he has finally decided to introduce himself and offer her homemade pie or something, he is doing it at an odd hour.

“Hi, I’m Neal, I live next door,” he begins, with a friendly, if a bit awkward, grin. “I know we have never talked, but I happen to have a bit of a, uh, _problem_ with spiders, and there’s this huge— I don’t know, it’s like a giant tarantula, I swear, it’s in my apartment and I have a job interview tomorrow so I do need the sleep, and you look scary enough not to be afraid of spiders, so— can you kill it for me?”

For a moment, Emma can only blink at the flood of words that just came out of his mouth. “Uh, sure,” she finally says, unsure if she’s weirded out by the fact that this complete stranger just rang her door to ask her to kill a spider, or if she finds it mildly amusing. “Let me— let me just grab my keys,” she has the presence of mind to say, because she’d much rather not lock herself out of her house on top of it all.

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Thanks,” he says, moving his weight from one foot to the other and gesturing for her to go ahead.

She leaves him at the door, realizing a minute too late that the polite thing to do would have probably been to invite him to come in, but it doesn’t take long for her to grab said keys and decide that she won’t even bother to put any shoes on, considering that his apartment is a few feet away from hers.

“Sweet place,” he comments, as they get out.

“Thanks,” she replies, curtly, trying to offer a smile to not seem _too_ grumpy, even if she’s starting to get a mild headache. God, she needs some decent sleep.

His apartment is smaller than hers, not to mention a bit of a mess – the boxes that he still has lying around don’t help.

“It’s there,” he announces, pointing at the wall next to the window.

Emma barely resists the urge to laugh at his face. “ _That’s_ what you call a ‘giant tarantula’?” she asks, grinning.

Neal pouts a little, shrugging. “It’s _big_ ,” he protests. “And I don’t want to wake up with _that_ on my nose.”

She shakes her head, still smiling slightly. “Fine, do you have a napkin?”

He quickly supplies one, and he proceeds to look at her with the most ridiculous look of admiration on his face as she bravely approaches the huge tarantula to challenge it to a duel to the death. It requires a second flat, because she’s a wonderful knight in shining armour, apparently.

“Here, gone,” she announces, showing the – now stained, but he’ll have to take care of that himself – empty wall.

“Thank you,” he says, with way too much sentiment, taking the napkin and tossing it into the trash. “I owe you. Maybe I can offer you a drink, sometime.”

“Are you _hitting_ on me right after begging me to kill a tiny spider in your apartment?” she grins, amused in spite of herself.

“It wasn’t tiny,” he immediately clarifies. “And I didn’t mean as a _date_ , but now that you mention it…” he trails off, a flirtatious grin on his face.

Emma just rolls her eyes at him, the corner of her mouth twitching up. “Goodnight, Neal,” she announces, theatrically heading for the door.

He laughs a little, half-jogging to precede her and open it up. “Goodnight…?” he replies, deliberately pausing to remind her that she didn’t offer a name.

“Emma. Swan,” she supplies.

“Good name,” he comments, with _another_ grin, which inspires _another_ eye roll.

“ _Bye_ ,” she stresses, shaking her head and heading for her door.

“Bye. Thank you!” he calls after her, as she opens her door.

The whole thing leaves her much less grumpy than when she first got home.

 

(The following day, he shows up at her door with homemade biscuits in the shape of spiders, expressing his eternal gratitude at her for bravely saving his life and proceeding to pledge his loyalty to her for eternity. It’s her day off and she’s feeling lonely, so she invites him in to eat them with her – after all, his apartment is next door, it’s no big deal. It turns into a movie night, and they wake up at two in the morning, sprawled on the couch and with the TV still on.)

 

(Two months later, for Halloween, she makes sure to decorate her house, which she hasn’t been doing in forever, with spiders and spiderwebs, just to be an asshole. Neal, in turn, puts pumpkin in every biscuit and in the cake, because he knows that she can’t stand it.

It’s a good Halloween.)

 

(Three years later, she vows to be his personal spider-killing machine for the rest of her life – and yes, those are her exact words.)

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including: 
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


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